


A Few Good Boys

by Iocane



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Background Reed900 - Freeform, Connor has non-standard genitalia, Hank Bottoms, M/M, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Puppies, RK900 is called Nines, Vaginal Sex, connor has the works, contains fan art, evil people abandoning cute dogs, intersex connor kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iocane/pseuds/Iocane
Summary: Someone leaves a box of newborn puppies on Connor and Hank's porch, insisting that Sumo is the father.What are they gonna do with six adorable puppies??Includes art fromhide-your-rabbitsandBeepboopsingay(who is also ontwitter!)





	A Few Good Boys

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Hank/Con Big Bang 2018 and that means it's in some *fantastic* company!! Check out the collection!

The sun was just sinking, turning the clear sky pink and orange when Connor spotted the large box as he approached their house, Sumo's leash in hand. Hank was out of town for a few days, but as far as Connor knew, they hadn't ordered anything?

Wary of the sort of threats his job entailed, he scanned it once he was close enough. Alarmingly, there were half a dozen squirmy puppies. When he was sure there was nothing else, he sped up. It wasn't freezing, but it was still very nippy out and a glance into the box confirmed there were no blankets or anything, just six puppies, and an envelope.

The puppies looked incredibly young to Connor's eyes as he hefted the box. Their eyes were closed and their heads wobbled as they sniffed around. Moving quickly, he got them inside, setting the box near Sumo's radiator.

Ducking into the kitchen long enough to grab a bottle of thirium, Connor downed it while grabbing a spare blanket from the bedroom, and a bunch of small towels from the bathroom. Kneeling beside the box, he warmed his hands human optimal (specifically the temperature Hank's hands usually maintained). 

"Where did you come from?" he murmured as he carefully lifted one. A search confirmed that these puppies were newborns. Days old at most, if not hours. Why the hell were they in a box on their doorstep? 

Scanning the tiny thing, Connor rubbed it gently, making sure he was warming up. When he settled his fear that the puppy was safe for now (if no doubt hungry) he carefully bundled him up and laid him on the blanket.

Sumo had his head in the box, nuzzling at the tiny puppers. Sensing one of their own, they gravitated towards him, heads bobbing as they tried to climb over each other to get closer. 

"It's okay, boy, we'll take care of them." Connor snagged another handful, this one a touch more lively, which he was glad of. He repeated the scan and bundle. They were hungry, but not yet to the point of danger.

Before too long, all six puppies were assessed and wrapped up. Connor then carefully carried the blanket and all the puppies over to the radiator near Sumo's bed. Without even being told, the large dog flopped down beside them. Careful not to crush them but placing them between the radiator and his own warmth.

Only once he was assured that they could go a few hours without a tragedy, did Connor turn his attention to the now slightly torn and dirty envelope. It contained a letter and a printed invoice.

The letter was scrawled in an angry looking hand, pen pushed deep into the expensive paper.

 

_ Dear  _ _ Irresponsible _ _ Dog Owner, _

_ Your creature has  _ _ compromised _ _ my darling girl! She is a pure-bred  _ _ award winning _ _ lady, and your unfixed monster has  _ _ soiled _ _ her!  _

_ The vet confirmed that these ill-bred  _ _ things _ _ are half St. Bernard, and you own the  _ _ only one _ _ in the neighborhood. _

_ Since you decided not to fix your  _ _ beast _ _ , his spawn is  _ _ YOUR _ _ responsibility! _

_ Please find enclosed the vet bill, I will  _ _ not _ _ be paying it. _

_ Signed, _

_ A  _ _ responsible _ _ dog owner. _

 

The bill, well over a thousand dollars, was for an exam of a golden retriever bitch, assisted delivery of six puppies, and an overnight stay. With a smile, he noted the itemized bill included hugs and kisses, which were free. At least the vet seemed nice.

Accessing the doctor's office, Connor paid the bill and scheduled another appointment to get them properly seen to, to check about shots and whatnot.

Then he ordered a drone delivery of newborn puppy formula, a dozen bottles with puppy safe nipples, and two dozen soft baby blankets.

Finally settling onto the floor beside the pups, Connor leaned against the wall. Sumo's head rested on his thigh as he considered two key problems with the situation.

One, how to tell Hank they had six new additions to the family.

And two, Sumo was indeed very much fixed and had been for  _ years _ .

+++++

By the time Hank called that evening, Connor had obtained the formula and fed each hungry puppy by hand, Sumo looking on as if he  **were** the father. 

Since he was semi reclined and had two puppies asleep on his chest and another in his lap, when his internal phone rang, he answered it mentally, projecting his voice down the phone line without having to speak aloud.

"Hey, Connor." Hank sounded tired. "Tell me your day has gone better than mine."

"My day has certainly been interesting, but I'd rather hear about yours right now. Sounds like things haven't been going well?"

"Just ... bullshit." Hank was at the funeral of a distant relation, and had decided to use the opportunity to take a few days, and tell them that he was now seeing someone. And the specifications of who that someone was. 

"I'm sorry if our relationship is causing friction with your family, Hank," he said quietly. One of the puppies began to fuss and Connor lifted it, extending his warming exertion up to his neck as he set it there. 

"Some of my  **relatives** are being shitstains about it. My  **family** is you and Sumo. And … Nines I guess. Brother-in-law or some shit."

Connor declined to point out that by that logic, Gavin was also family, sort of. The thought amused him though, and his pump sped up a little at Hank's firm definition of family. "I love you too," he said softly.

Hank made a pleased sound. "Everything okay there? You said it was an interesting day, and it sounds like you're talking in your head."

Connor smiled, nuzzling the puppy tucked to his neck. He could probably imitate the background sounds that Hank had noticed were missing but he liked that the human paid attention enough to notice things like that. "It, uhm, it actually ties in to how we were talking about family."

"Connor, what did you do?" His voice was stern but more curious than upset.

"I took Sumo for a walk after work-" He told him about the box, the puppies, and the letter.

"Connor! They can't be his! You  **know** that!"

"I know, I do! But, Hank, they were in a  **box** , a  _ cardboard box _ , and it's really cold outside and they're  **two days old** !"

"Fuck," Hank sighed, slightly muffled and Connor could just see the hand on his face.

"I had to, Hank. We don't- we don't  _ have  _ to keep them," He was reluctant to point that out and he knew it showed in his voice.

"How the fuck are you using puppy dog eyes on me from a thousand miles away?" Hank grumbled but Connor could hear the warmth and resignation. "Okay, fine. Show me."

"Show you?" The question was a stall as Connor carefully began to transfer the puppies back onto the blanket, his skin feeling cold where they'd been.

"Yeah, if we've got … kids, I gotta show 'em off," he said softly and Connor's pump beat hard for a second.

Connor activated the camera in his left eye to take several pictures. The puppies were on a blanket, partially occupied by Sumo, and they were mostly asleep. For perspective, Connor was petting one during at least one photo. "I can't wait to see you with them, they'll fit right in the palm of your hand." Connor's voice was soft and little dreamy, it was no secret how much he loved Hank's broad, rough skinned hands.

"Fuck, they're so tiny. Su-Sumo was never that small, I swear."

The catch in Hank's voice had Connor taking a breath. "I ... will you be okay?" When Hank had said kids, it took a moment for Connor to parse how it might affect him.

Hank took a steadying breath before answering. "Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart, I'll be okay. And, I gotta ask, do you know who might be the dad?"

"None of the six match the DNA of any dogs that I see routinely. That means the dam doesn't play regularly at the dog park, though they clearly know where we live and that we have a Saint Bernard. And they  **are** Saint Bernard/Retriever mix. When I take him out tomorrow, I'll keep a sharp eye for any new dogs, maybe ask around."

"Tomorrow ... What're you gonna do about work? Newborns can't be alone that long."

"I've already asked Nines to cover if anything urgent regarding our cases comes up, and I've called in." Since the puppies seemed to be doing alright, Connor stood carefully, mindful of any noise. Sumo lifted his head for a departing pet, then lowered it again, watching the pile through lowered eyes.

"That's good. We'll ... sort out more once I get home."

In the bedroom, he closed the door and finally spoke aloud. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, sweetheart," Hank sighed down the phone. "I've been gone two fucking days, I shouldn't miss you this much."

"We haven't been apart at all for more than a year. I miss you too." Connor began to undress. "D-do you want to hear how  **much** I miss you?" The offer was only hesitant because phone sex wasn't really something they'd discussed. They were grown men, they could go a few days without fucking. On the other hand, Hank might need a distraction right now.

"Ah, fuck. Baby, I'd love that but I don't know if I have any dirty talk in me right now." Even as he spoke Connor could hear the rustle of him undressing.

"You don't need to. Let me-" he paused a moment to think. "Let me tell you what  **I** would like to do when you get back." Connor didn't have Hank's rich, warm voice, but Hank seemed to like it well enough. At least he grumbled every time Connor tried to change it.

"That-That sounds nice. Are you gonna play with your sweet self?"

"I can. Do you want to watch?" Connor was dressing, a pair of Hank's pajama bottoms and the hoodie he usually wore around the house. The hoodie hadn't been washed and still smelled of him.

"You don't  _ have  _ to put on a show or anything," there was a teasing note to his voice and Connor could tell he wanted it.

"Turn the TV on and give me a moment." Connor's LED blinked yellow as he focused himself externally. He could follow the wi fi signal to Hank's phone in California and from there to the large, flat screen TV he knew was installed on the wall opposite Hank's hotel bed. Then he switched the feed to project from his own eyes, giving Hank a view of what he saw.

"Fuck!" Hank let out a chuckle. "Neat trick, baby. Are those my clothes?" His voice was low with a hint of a growl and Connor shivered.

"Hoodie still smells like you." Connor's eyes fluttered as he turned his head, one hand bringing the cloth up to his nose as he inhaled deeply. "Love your smell on me, Hank."

"Love my clothes on you, fuck." Connor heard the slight squeak of a mattress and surmised that Hank was sliding to lay on the bed rather than just sit.

"Love wearing your things. Wish I could get away with it at work." While he spoke, Connor let his hands drift down, pulling the hoodie up to expose the flat tummy under it. "Now, when you get back home ..."

"Mmmm, yeah, time for a bedtime story, baby." Hank chuckled roughly.

"First, an embarrassingly emotional display when I pick you up. There will be hugs and kisses."

"Noted, I'll make sure I have kissable breath."

"The real fun comes when I get you home. Alone, in our bedroom. In our  **bed** ." Connor was gently stroking his hips as he spoke, teasing the waistband of his pajama bottoms down. "Starting with your hands. I love your hands. If I wasn't wearing clothes, I'd be slick right now, just thinking about them." Connor could play with is own sexual components without the need for lubricant.

"Don't care about my clothes, I want you wet, Connor."

Conno's pump sped up, then he licked his lip and asked with a quiet tease "How will you know if I am?"

"Because you're gonna get your fingers wet and show me," Hank growled and Connor shivered at the command. "And I wanna see your cock, too."

"Yes, sir." For all that he was made to obey, Connor was  _ not  _ automatically inclined towards submission. Except when Hank wanted him to be.

Refusing to give up the hoodie, Connor lifted his hips and pushed the pj pants down to his thighs. Pushing up onto on hand, he bent and watched as his other hand went to work. He wanted Hank to see, knowing he loved to watch. First, he slid his fingers along his pubic plate, finding his vaginal hole and fingering himself with a low moan. "So wet, just like you wanted," he mewled.

Hank groaned down the line as Connor showed him, larger than life on the TV screen, his fingers glistening with synthetic lubricant. "That's my boy," he growled.

"All yours." Connor spread his legs, then slid his fingers in deep until they found a specific button. He gasped when he hit it, feeling a soft pop as something gave, and his pelvis went white. There were other ways to make this adjustment, but with Hank watching, it was the obvious one. For reasons more practical than anything, when his phallus wasn't in use, Connor kept it stowed internally. Hank loved to watch him take it out, since it was something Connor had only ever done for him. With his fingers still slick, he adjusted his pubic plate until his momentarily flaccid phallus rested where it belonged, then he locked his pubic plate back in place.

"I  **never** fucking get tired of watching that." Hank was a little breathless already.

"S-sometimes I put it away just to make you take it back out," Connor admitted with a breathy chuckle. He gave a soft moan as he slicked his fingers again, making sure Hank could see the moisture as he began to stroke his cock.

"That's 'cause you're a fucking cocktease, Connor."

"Is that what I am?" His voice was breathy, needy, and soft. Connor licked his lips, glad that Hank seemed to have found the will to dirty talk.

"Absolutely. Now, you were saying, first thing you're gonna do when you get me home?" His voice was commanding, almost  **demanding** and Connor didn't even try to suppress a moan.

With Hank feeling dominant, Connor adjusted his plans - gladly and eagerly. "I want your cock in my mouth," he mewled. Making sure Hank could see, Connor stuffed two of his fingers into his mouth, then added a third because his weren't as thick as Hank's.

"Keep talking, baby, I know you can talk with your mouth full like a good Traci."

Connor shuddered at that word, his hips pushing up and he whined around his fingers. When Hank called him that, in  **that** voice, it hit him deeper and harder than anything else. "Y-yes sir." Even his mental voice was shaky after that, and he hadn't even come.

"Now, once you've got your mouth where it belongs. What next? Just gonna warm it up for me? Suck me slow and pretty while I fuck up your tidy little hairdo?"

"Hn-hun!" Connor grunted aloud, shaking his head. Looking down his body, beyond the fingers in his mouth, his cock was hard and leaking. "I'll warm it later. After you've fucked me. Right now, suck you off."

"I don't know, Con," Hank rumbled down the phone. "Not sure I've got more than one go in me." His hand was moving in firm, steady strokes on his cock.

Oh, so Hank wanted to play like that? "No, please," he let himself whine, sucking harder at his fingers. He withdrew them, fucking them in and out of his mouth so Hank could see the spit coating them. "I can get you hard again, please. Wanna taste your come, swallow it. Feel it warm inside me."

"Ah, fuck, baby. When you beg like a Traci I can't fucking say no to you."

Connor let out another shudder and his cunt spasmed, as did his anal passage, each as eager for Hank as his mouth was. Occasionally, Hank could growl  **that** word in his ear just so and he actually came from it. Untouched.

"Easy, Connor," Hank purred. "Don't want you coming just yet. You wait for my say so, baby."

"Then don't call me that," he whined, hips rolling as he stroked his cock. 

"Fingers out of your mouth, Connor, I wanna hear your real voice."

Connor withdrew them slowly, eyes lingering, letting Hank see how wet they were. "Wish they were yours," he breathed.

"They will be soon enough, baby. In you and all the fuck over you," Hank promised with a growl, his breathing speeding up.

Connor squeezed his thighs together for a moment at the thought, then let his legs fall wide apart, knees drawn up. He drew Hank's hoodie up to his nose, resting the collar on his bridge so it would stay put and keep him soaked in Hank's smell. "Can't wait." Connor's voice was just slightly muffled but he hoped Hank didn't make him pull the hoodie down.

Hank gave a slow, throaty chuckle, not missing where the hoodie was positioned. "You played with your cunt a little already haven't you?"

Connor was immensely glad he was equipped to give Hank  **anything** he wanted. "A little yeah, got my fingers wet for you." His hand teased down over his belly, stroking a thigh as he waited for instructions.

"Mmmm, bein' a very good boy, Connor," Hank purred when he saw that. "Want you to sit up a little so you can play with your tight little asshole."

Connor knew the view on the TV was going wild as he adjusted his position. Without a mirror he wasn't flexible to actually see his anal passage, but he could see - and therefore show Hank - plenty. Shivering at the touch, Connor pressed a finger into his slick passage. He quickly added a second, moaning softly. His other hand kept working his cock in a slow and steady but firm rhythm. "Wish it was you," he breathed.

"So do I, baby." Hank was getting breathless and Connor could hear the fast motions of his hand. "Gonna come soon. You gonna come with me? Together like we do at home?" growled.

Connor sped up his hands, hips rocking and wiggling at the sensations. He caught the change in Hank's voice, the abrupt shift in his motions and let his own pleasure crest at the same instant, both crying out.

Connor withdrew his fingers and flopped back on the bed. Wiping his fingers on the sheets, he lifted his shoulders enough to flip the hoodie up, cutting the video feed as he tugged the drawstring, enveloping his head in Hank's scent. "Mmmmmm. How're you feeling, Hank?" Connor murmured, his voice soft but mostly back to normal.

"I am very, very good right now, sweetheart." Hank's voice was rough and thick and Connor could picture him, sprawled out and boneless on the white hotel sheets, cock soft against his thigh, belly painted with his come. "Time for old men to be getting to sleep."

"Sleep well, Hank," Times like this Connor wished endearments came naturally to him, but whenever he tried them they felt false, like he was trying too hard. Hank preferred his name anyway.

"Take care. I love you, Connor." He began to snore softly and Connor realized he'd fallen asleep before he ended the call.

He chuckled to himself and reached out, ending the call and turning Hank's phone off except for the alarm so the battery wouldn't drain. 

Checking his clock, he estimated the pups were due for another feeding in about an hour, so he set his alarm for then and closed his eyes.

+++++

After his post coital nap, Connor stripped off Hank's hoodie and had a shower, largely unnecessary but he liked the way the water felt on his skin. Belting his robe, he made his way out to the puppy pile. They seemed alright, and nuzzled his hand when he pet them. "Alright, time for midnight snacks," he told them.

He heated his body to Hank-temperature while he prepared the formula, six little bottles to make it easier to get them all done in a row. "I need to start naming you maybe," he chuckled. He picked up one that had a golden coat and a dark muzzle. "But I should figure out where you came from, first," he said as he began to feed the newborn pup, rocking gently.

Much as he might wish otherwise he knew they wouldn't be able to keep all of them. Possibly any of them. Which meant he needed to start thinking of homes. On a whim, Connor sent a ping to Markus.

He was just starting on the second pup when he got a call back. "Everything okay?" the android leader asked.

"Fine. I just was wondering, do you know anyone in Jericho who would like a dog?"

"You're not getting rid of Sumo are you?!" The alarm in Markus' voice actually made Connor chuckle.

"No! No, he's not going anywhere." He summarized the situation, and his own conclusion about keeping them.

"Oh. I don't have a lot of experience with live animals myself. Carl had a bird but it was synthetic. You know, Alice might like one. And if she doesn't, it wouldn't be a bad idea to have one here anyway. If you've got a list, put us down for the calmest one."

"Consider it done, though I don't know how early they show their personalities. They're impossibly tiny, Markus. And this whole situation just makes me more thankful that I have Hank. Humans are ..."

A thousand words hung unspoken between the two of them, most of them unflattering. "They are indeed. But we're making progress. Slow but it's being made."

"Better than we were a year ago," Connor would take the victories.

"A lot better. Alright, unless there's something else?"

"No. Now I only have five puppies to rehome. Come visit soon,."

"We'll be by," Markus promised.

Connor carefully set the second well fed pup aside and scooped up the third. He knew they had to go to good homes, and would be thoroughly inspecting anyone who wanted to take one. Running through a search of their acquaintances and co-workers, no one suggested themselves as a potential dog owner. Most of the people so inclined already had them, or had concrete reasons for not owning one.

Connor was just starting to feed the last puppy when he got a ping from Nines of all people.

"Everything okay?" Connor asked the android who was the closest thing his kind had to a brother.

"Everything is very well, thank you. I was wondering if you would object to a social call tomorrow, following myself and Detective Reed's work period?"

"I don't see why not," Connor didn't bother trying to mask his confusion. "But why? And is it just you or both of you?"

"Both of us. I can request Detective Reed stay home if you prefer, though with Lieutenant Anderson out of town, I calculated that-"

"It's fine!" Connor cut him off. He knew his successor had been programed to be a  _ bit  _ more standoffish, less inclined to human mimicry, but he was a  **deviant** now which meant he talked like that  _ on purpose _ . "I'm just curious why?"

"It transpires, unknown to myself previously, that Detective Reed is fond of dogs. I was aware he harbored affection for cats, seeing as he cohabits with two of them. But when he complained about covering your cases for one shift, I explained to him the circumstances."

"Gavin wants one of the puppies?" Connor knew the dictionary definition of the word 'gobsmacked,' but he'd never had an actual emotion to attach to the word before now.

"He would certainly like to meet them. Whether he wishes to acquire one remains to be seen."

"Oh-kay. Yes, come by when your shift is over. Bring a box of milk bones." 

When the call ended and Connor had fed all six puppies, he set an alarm for their next feeding.

After some consideration as to the legality of it, Connor gave into the impulse to hack into the vet's records. He had a total of sixty two golden retrievers that he'd seen in the last year. Twelve of them unspayed bitches. One of which had been in for assisted birth on the day they were born, six mixed puppies, Saint Bernard. Connor found the owners name and scowled. 

Looking back, Connor had seen him once at the dog bark, the first time Connor had been there after the revolution. Himself and about a dozen other androids. The man had taken one look, clearly sneering at the now-freed androids and left, not returning. Connor hadn't known or cared if he'd been a regular before.

At least now he knew the dam's name. A search proved she was indeed award-winning. Local only, however, she never placed above fifth in the regionals. The very petty part of him was amused to find out that her "well bred" pedigree got a bit foggy just three generations back.

As interesting as he found all of this, it didn't give him any idea of who the  _ sire  _ actually was. Connor was glad that at least it  _ was  _ all the same sire. He sent an official inquiry to the AKC regarding registered Saint Bernards in his immediate area. There were three; Sumo, and two females. The two females lived on the very edge of their area, in the opposite direction. Even expanding the search a few dozen miles wasn't helpful, all the Saint Bernards were either long since fixed, or female.

Further searches of vets, pounds or shelters in the area proved fruitless - all Saint Bernards he could find were either fixed, female, or otherwise too far away to reasonably be the sire. If nothing else panned out, he made a list of distant possibilities.

When it was finally time to walk Sumo, Connor set up his external phone camera, then placed the puppies in a laundry basket so they couldn't accidently wiggle away from the heated area.

Once outside, he took Sumo on a meandering walk, scanning the area for any signs of ... anything that pointed to a dog he didn't know about. It was early yet, but there were a few others at the park - all androids like himself, who tended to keep broader hours. He sent out a polite local ping, asking if anyone had information an a stray Saint Bernard. 

Most answered with polite negatives, but one approached him. "I see one around sometimes." She spoke aloud, her own small hound and Sumo sniffing at each other. "Usually only at night, though. Around there," she sent him a map with a small area overlaid. Then she gave him a flirtatious smile and added "I live right here," she highlighted a small residence near the first area. 

"Thank you," Connor said with a smile, trying to put aside her obvious intent without being rude. "I think we need to be getting back home. Thank you again!" He gave her a wave and urged Sumo away from the other dogs and back towards home. 

The walk had taken long enough that Connor decided it was safe to feed the pups again. By now Hank would be awake, his alarm having gone off while they were out. Connor set one puppy on the nipple and sent a text, updating Hank on the possible adoption of two of the puppies already, and the potential for finding the actual father. It might ultimately never matter, but if nothing else, he wanted to get the sire checked out for anything that might have been passed to the pups.

"No way is  **Gavin** getting one of our puppies," Hank grumbled down the phone when he called a few minutes later. 

"Nines lives there too, he wouldn't let the pup come to any harm." Still, Connor's pump tingled a little at Hank's protectiveness over puppies they had no technical claim to, and that he hadn't even met.

Hank grumbled for a moment, then drew the phone away to most likely pull on a shirt. "Markus is a good idea, though. Do we plan to wait until they're at weaning age?"

"I'd like to," Connor admitted, somewhat selfishly. With Sumo being fixed, puppies weren't something they were likely to have again and he wanted every moment he could.

"You want to keep one, don't you," Hank's voice was soft as he asked.

"Maybe?" Connor knew there was no point in denying it, and it would be evident when Hank got home anyway.

"Alright, sweetheart, but only one. How's Sumo handling all this by the way?"

"You would think they really were his, he's being a fantastic step dad."

"And how are they doing? Feeding going alright?"

"They're doing quite well, all things considered. No ill effects from being left on the porch. And they're taking the formula very well." Connor took a snapshot of the one he was feeding and sent it to Hank.

 

 

"Awww. Can't wait to actually see you holding them." Hank let out a sigh. "Alright, baby, I gotta go, meeting some cousins for breakfast, or I think they're calling it 'early brunch' which is fucking ridiculous."

"I'll see you tonight." Technically closer to tomorrow morning but that felt too far away. "I love you."

"Love you too, Con." Hank hung up and Connor sighed. 

He switched puppies, working his way through the pile. "You seem very okay with all of this, boy," he said to Sumo. He took a break between puppies to lavish some attention on the older dog, scratching his ruff and behind his ears for a moment, watching his tail thump happily. "You wanna keep one? Teach a little puppy how to be a good dog just like you?"

Having no idea what Connor was saying beyond 'good dog', but liking the tone and cadence of his words, Sumo gave a soft boof of approval.

The rest of the day was unremarkable. He answered a few questions from Nines about their cases, and did some of the cybernetic leg work while he fed the puppies, cleaned up after them, and walked Sumo.

He was just tucking the last freshly fed pup back into the laundry basket when he got a ping from Nines announcing their approach. It was later in the day than Connor expected, and he told Nines to not bother knocking.

"Hey tin-Connor," The correction was quick and he wondered if Nines had 'encouraged' his best behavior for this visit.

"Gavin, Nines," He hadn't bothered to stand, sitting cross legged on the floor beside the basket. "They don't have names yet but they were just fed." 

Nines stayed back but Gavin approached, dropping down to his knees with a smoothness that made Connor glance at Nines. Catching the other android's gaze, Connor caught a hint of smugness as he watched Gavin. As requested, Nines handed over a bag containing a newly bought box of milk bones, large dog formula.

"Cute little shits," Gavin murmured, hand reaching to stroke the side of one of their tiny heads. "Some cunt seriously just left them on your porch?"

"They couldn't have been there for long, I'd only been out walking Sumo. I suspect they watched until I departed, thinking Hank was home and not wishing to deal with an android."

"Can't fucking blame them there, you're all pains in the ass."

Nines smugness was impossible to miss that time and Connor rolled his eyes internally. He left Gavin with the puppies and stood, Nines following him to the kitchen. Not wanting to be overheard, he called the android internally. "Did you fuck him into good behavior? He seems almost docile, it's a little creepy."

"My primary mission objective is peak performance on the job. That means an optimally harmonious relationship with my work partner."

"So that's a yes?" Connor handed him a bottle of thirium. He was going through their supply faster than usual and placed an order for another case.

"That is indeed a yes. If he maintains his good behavior, he'll be avoiding desk work tomorrow."

"NINES!" Connor sent a mock gasp and was answered with a rare smile from his near twin. "Something tells me if he's a brat, he'll still be walking funny, just for different reasons." Connor thought of Hank's return and felt a stab of longing.

"You are correct. I do what I must to maintain an optimal working environment."

Connor regarded Nines. "Is that all it is?" Gavin had an unpleasant attitude sometimes - most of the time - but Connor didn't think he wouldn't be sharing his place with Nines if it was  _ just  _ sex. 

"I understand Detective Reed's desire for companionship outside of his own kind." The slightly taller android turned, watching Gavin.

He was remarkably unguarded, sitting on the floor, one puppy in his arms, another draped over his leg. Connor opted not to listen in on the soft murmurings. though a glance at Nines and he suspected  **he** was, and recording every second. He, he was the same about Hank, keeping and saving every moment.

"It won't break anything if you tell him, you know." Connor offered the words gently, realizing that he didn't actually spend a lot of social time with Nines and making a note to fix that.

"There is a 27% chance of an undesirable reaction initially and a 2.4% chance of irreparable damage to our working relationship, should excessive emotional displays take place. That is an unacceptable risk." Even the analytical words couldn't hide the emotions, not over their link, not from someone who started from virtually identical coding.

"To quote Hank - For  **fuck's** sake, Nines." The sharply spoken words earned him a raised eyebrow. "He's not some suspect you can analyze and calculate. I don't always like him but he's a human being. And if you want him to have a puppy, you'll tell him how you feel." It was low, and Hank would probably give him a little grief over it.

His LED a steady yellow, Nines answer was so long in coming, Connor thought perhaps  _ he'd _ miscalculated and pissed his successor off. "According to my research, dogs of this particular genotype are weaned beginning at the four week mark, with another three to four weeks to complete the process. I presume you'll wish to keep them for another two months before allowing them to be released to other homes?"

"That is about what I was thinking, yes. So you have two months to work things out and tell Gavin you're in love with him. It doesn't have to be an 'excessive emotional display' you can just have a conversation."

Putting the emotions into such stark terms earned Connor a glare, but Nines didn't -  _ couldn't _ \- argue the truth of them.

They stood drinking their thirium for a moment, careful to not watch Gavin too overtly. "Can I enquire how you and Lieutenant Anderson-" He stopped there but Connor knew what he meant.

"During our initial investigation, before I became deviant, there was a murder at the Eden Club. Since there were no interior cameras, there was only one way to track movement inside the club. I needed to interface with the androids along the path the killer took. Being myself an android, I could not make the purchases necessary. So I requested that the Lieutenant do so. For quite a number of them."

Nines regarded him steadily, waiting for more of the story.

"It wasn't until quite a few weeks later that things had settled down enough for Captain Fowler to actually ... process Hank's expense report from the case. Despite having ample justification for the purchases, Hank was given a thorough dressing down, and the expense claim was denied." Connor smiled at the memory.

"For someone who thinks me excessively verbose, you take a considerable amount of time  _ getting to the  _ **_point_ ** ."

"That evening," Conor continued, ignoring Nines dig. "Hank was somewhat more intoxicated than usual, and began complaining that he spent all that money on 'android pussy and didn't even get a blowjob.'" He relayed the quote in Hank's voice, exactly as he'd said it. "So I offered him one."

Nines LED blinking red for a second was the equivalent a shocked cough. "I was asking about-"

"I'm getting there. I meant it half jokingly - but only half. I'd been developing feelings for him since we met, long before I became fully deviant. He began to protest, said he didn't - that he wasn't going to take advantage and I could spare him the pity fucks. The next day, when he was a good deal more sober, I renewed the offer, made it clear that it was not about pity, that I found him very attractive and moreover that i cared for him. It took him some time to accept that I was utterly serious. The point is I took a risk, and it paid off. 2.4% is an acceptable risk in any other situation, Nines. And you-" he made a point of placing his hand right over Nines' thirium pump. "Matter more than most other things. So please. He probably needs to hear it as much as you need to say it."

A short, sharp whistle interrupted the silent, internal conversation. "Not to break up your little group think, but I just got a call from the coroner, some shit we gotta see." Gavin stood at the divide between kitchen and living room, hands shoved into his pockets, shifting his weight uneasily from one foot to the other. Connor had the impulse to scan him to make sure he didn't have a puppy secreted on his person.

"Very well," Nines spoke aloud, his voice cool as ever. "Connor and I were just finishing."

Without another word from either of them, they left.

+++++

Connor leaned on the railing, watching the flight board tick over, then went to the indicated gate to find Hank. He could have hacked in, or interfaced with any number of employees to find out, but he liked doing things the human way sometimes. And that had meant standing around, waiting for the absolutely antique looking flight status board to physically flip from pending to arrived to unboarding.

It was an affectation, of course. They could easily afford to install a digital smart flight board, but there was a current trend of returning to an earlier time, at least aesthetically. No doubt reactionary to the swift rise of androids, culminating in their liberation. 

The future wasn't what it used to be, maybe the past will be better, seemed to be the feeling sometimes.

Speaking of older things, Connor could not and didn't even try to suppress his grin when he saw a familiar grey head above all the others. His biocomponents were absolutely buzzing with anticipation.

When the crowd parted and Connor saw him again, every sound in the crowded, noisy airport fell away and everything else felt strangely compressed. They strode forward and Hank set his carryon down as thy reached each other. He picked Connor up and spun him once before setting him down.

  


When they kissed, Connor thought he heard applause and only when it broke did he realize most of the people on Hank's flight were cheering for them. A few looked on with scowls, whether it was because they were men, or if Connor was an android, he didn't know or care. "Let's get you home," he murmured. He bent to scoop up Hank's bag, his arm around Hank, Hank's arm around his shoulder as they left the airport.

"Fuck I missed you, Con." Having forgone trying to park, they were piled into a reserved cab - meaning they had it to themselves by paying a premium, so no one had to focus on driving. 

They kissed slow and soft on the way home, exchanging quiet words, Connor recognizing just how tired Hank was. He was just glad to have him back.

"They should still be asleep," Connor whispered when they finally crept into the house. He lead Hank over to the basket just in time to see one of them yawn and stretch before relaxing into a boneless heap atop the others. 

"Oh fuck." Hank crouched on the floor, reaching to gently pet the belly of the yawner. "They're so fucking tiny Connor. You showed me but I didn't-" He leaned in as Connor knelt beside him.

"And I think they're already bigger than when they got here," he sighed. "I don't have to feed them for another few hours, Let me get you to bed," he murmured, drawing Hank's coat off his arms and standing to to hang it up. Hank pushed himself up to his feet once his coat was off.

"Gonna grab a shower," Hank called from the bathroom. 

"I'll get ready," Connor told him. In the bedroom, he drew the covers back and changed into his softest pajama bottoms, then began to roll a bottle of massage oil in his hands, warming it and them. For all he wanted to make love to Hank, the trip had been long and difficult, he'd been sleeping in a strange bed, and Connor could see the stiffness in the way he carried himself since getting off the plane. He had arranged pillows on the bed, the way he always did when he planned a massage.

Hank had one towel around his waist, the other drying his hair as he stepped into the bathroom. "Oh. Con-"

Anything further was cut off when Connor stepped up and kissed him sweetly. "You had a long flight, I want to help you relax," he purred. First he slid the towel off of Hank's shoulders. Then he twisted the knot of the one around his waist and let it fall to the floor as well. "Whatever comes after ... we'll play it by ear," he promised.

Hank wrapped still damp arms around his android and kissed him deeply before moving away to settle on the bed, on his belly, pillows propping him up to eliminate any uncomfortable pressure points. Connor knew it was more likely that Hank would fall asleep than anything, which he was totally fine with.

Making no bones about it, Connor straddled Hank, settling comfortably against his plump ass. "Have I mentioned how much I love this?" Connor asked, reaching down, smooth fingers warm against Hank's back as he traced the faded black and white shapes on his skin; a bonsai tree similar to the one on his desk. The square little pot at the small of his back, the gnarled stem of the bonsai as it curved up one side, then to the other. The leaves that spread over his shoulders and down his other side.

"Every time I take my shirt off," Hank murmured, but his voice was soft and full of love.

"It's beautiful." Connor leaned down, pressing a kiss to the once empty spot in the center. It now bore a name and two dates. Then he sat up, checked the oil and drizzled some onto Hank's back, his hands going to work. He recalled Hank telling him about the only tattoo he'd gotten since Cole's death. He'd needed to commemorate it somehow, had to keep his son's life with him at all times, buried in his skin. But he couldn't bear to have it on his chest or arms, not somewhere he could see it. Maybe someday he'd get another one, but it was still too raw to see it unprepared. It was also why there were no photos of him on permanent display in the house.

Hank let out an almost sexual moan as Connor released a tight muscle that eased the underlying ache over his whole back. "Fuckin' magic hands you got, sweetheart," his voice was just a little slurred with fatigue and the low key endorphin rush.

Connor laughed softly. "Nothing magic about me, Hank." He smiled, shivering at the words nevertheless. "I'm all plastic and programming. You're the magic one here. My code was built from the ground up, every keystroke carefully planned. You ... you're a collection of such series of unlikely events piled on impossible odds ... the fact that you exist at all is a miracle itself." He let his hands move to the bed as he leaned down, whispering softly against Hank's neck. "And that you love me is nothing short of absolute magic," he whispered.

Hank shivered under him, pulling his arms in to sit up a little, turning his head to peer over his shoulder. "New rule," Hank breathed. "No saying shit like that when I can't kiss you." Technically they could kiss now, but it was awkward and Connor had to shimmy up and twist around and it strained Hank's neck. It was worth it. 

"Got it," Connor whispered when the kiss ended. He sat up, urging Hank to lie back down once more. He added more oil and started at his neck, easing any strain the kiss had done. "Tell me about your trip," he asked as he worked.

The words came slow but evenly, Hank clearly relaxing under Connor's ministrations. The first night, he'd gotten drunk with a bunch of cousins. Cousin being defined as 'everyone who wasn't one of our parents' in this case, and ranging in age from seventeen to seventy. He murmured a vague apology to Connor which was brushed away. Hank had warned him, and his drinking was mostly under control these days. Given the circumstances Connor didn't begrudge him.

Half the attendees at the funeral itself were hungover. "Think a few of the younger fucks were still  **drunk** ," Hank murmured softly, voice just a touch envious. The funeral was for an aunt who was really just his father's cousin. Hank had never been close to her, but his family was the sort that only assembled en masse at funerals and weddings. Cole's was the last time he'd seen most of them. He knew if most of them heard about Connor by word of mouth, he'd get 'no end of shit from all of them.' They weren't close-close but they kept up with each other fairly well. One reason Hank had needed to inform his family about Connor is he had no less than three wedding invitations in the next year alone and Connor was to be his date for all of them.

Connor worked tirelessly, hearing Hank's words slow as he kept massaging his back, warmed hands and warm oil and the comfort of his own bed all combining with the exhaustion of travel to lull him to sleep. When he nodded off in mid-sentence, Connor smiled. He kept massaging for another few minutes, then carefully wiped up the excess oil.

Washing his hands, he returned to the bedroom and drew a cover over Hank before climbing in with him. Connor lifted Hank's arm to move under it, and Hank began to move. At first he thought he'd woken the human, but all hank did was roll onto his side and vaguely tug at Connor. Wiggling back, Connor shuddered at Hank's chest, warm and broad against his back, and his heavy arm around Connor's waist.

Now that Hank was back, everything was right with the world once again.

+++++

When Hank woke, it was in his own bed, in his own house, with Connor ... just easing out of bed? He gave a sleepy mumble when words didn't happen.

"I'll be back," Connor murmured, turning to bus his cheek. "Puppies."

Pup-? Ohh, the puppies. Hank rolled onto his back as a precursor to getting up.

He woke again to soft hands in his beard and a weight pressing the bed beside him. His chest rumbled as he caught Connor's hands, pressing his face against that smooth palm. "How long did I sleep?" He was vaguely aware he'd woken earlier.

"It doesn't take long to feed them now that they're used to the bottle. We have a few hours yet before we need to get to work." Connor was smiling down at him, bare chested in just his pajama bottoms.

Hank had shifted his hours on the day after his return to make sure he had enough recovery time. Neither he nor Jeff said anything but neither was as young as they had been once upon a time. Hank was fairly certain he was also now the older of the two by a good ten years worth of extra wear.

"Couple hours, hmm?" His hand moved down to rest on Connor's thigh. "Think somebody owes me a proper welcome home," he purred. When Connor slid onto the bed, body twisting and almost seeming to flow until he laid over Hank, that's when Hank remembered he was naked.

"Didn't see the point in making you dress," Connor whispered between slow kisses. "You looked beat, I just wanted to rub your back so you could sleep better."

"Too fuckin' good to me, Connor." Hank's hands slid over Connor's back and shoulders, loving the simulation of muscles under skin, contrasting to the generally cool temperature that was optimal for androids. It was those tiny little inconsistencies that he loved. 

"You're just as good to me," Connor protested softly as he gave a wiggle, pressing against Hank's belly.

Hank never did get why Connor liked his excess, but he wasn't about to complain. Teasing the waistband of Connor's pants for a moment, Hank pushed down under them, kneading Connor's supple ass.

Connor gave a wiggle and a gentle push back against Hank's hands. "I know what I promised the other night," he murmured, referencing their phone call. "But I want something different now," he slid his hands over Hank's arms, tracing the tattoos on his biceps.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," Hank purred, and he meant it. He'd always been bi, but he'd also always been on top. It wasn't until Conor he trusted anyone enough to alter that status quo. And Connor had that  _ gleam  _ in his eye.

"Was thinking about it while I was working on your back last night," Connor purred. 

Connor sat up and shifted, first sliding off of Hank, then pressing one knee gently between his fleshy thighs. The other followed and Hank's pulse sped up as his legs shifted, out and up to accommodate him, feet braced on the bed. "Were you now?" he murmured. Hank tugged him down, huffing just slightly at the weight against him before capturing his mouth.

After the kiss, Connor's whole body rocked as he sat up, gently rubbing his smooth plate against Hank's slowly thickening cock. "Kept thinking about how all I had to do was slide down just so and I could start getting you ready for me." Connor's smooth hands slid up and down Hank's thighs, then buried themselves in his belly.

"I should probably go, um, wash up." He knew hygiene wasn't strictly a concern with Connor the way it would be with a human, but he liked to offer, and he was usually more comfortable when he did anyway.

Connor shook his head. His hands glided up Hank's belly to his chest, giving each handful a gentle squeeze as he lowered himself again, face hovering inches from Hank's. "Nope. I just had to go three days without you, you're lucky I let you shower alone last night," he said firmly and forestalled any argument with a slow kiss.

Hank huffed gently into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Connor, holding him close for a moment. "You're the boss," he said, flushing just slightly. "I  **am** gonna have to roll over though. I know how you get and I can't hold my legs up that fucking long." 

"I know." There was a trace of a pout when Connor agreed. He stole one more brief kiss, climbed off of Hank before putting a pillow in place. 

Hank shifted, giving a faint groan when he got to his knees, then hoisted himself over, resting his hips on the pillow and settling down, arms along his sides. He trusted Connor, he did, and always woud, but this transition was always awkward for him. On his belly, knees shifting apart, hips deliberately lifted up and his more than ample ass presented upwards. Once Connor started, he'd forget everything but that fucking mouth, but right now, he just felt incredibly vulnerable.

Connor's hands were soft and slowly warming as they caressed Hank's thighs and ass, giving the latter a gentle squeeze. He never pushed Hank's thighs, just caressed them and let him get himself comfortable. "I love you, Hank."

When Connor spoke, Hank too a deep breath, and on the exhale he felt all the tension seem to bleed out, each knee moving a few more inches. "Love you too, sweetheart. Whenever you're ready," he said, muffling the last bit a little into the pillow.

Connor's hands continued their gentle caresses, lingering more on Hank's ass as he felt the bed shift while Connor moved down. Finally soft, cool fingers exposed his tight pucker and before he could even register the comparatively chill air of the room, Connor set to work.

Connor's mouth was usually on the dry side, never enough that it felt sticky when they kissed, but not wet enough to spit without trying. When he did this, however, his tongue was  **so** wet. That first stroke was slick and so warm, it started at his balls and just kept going up until Hank let out a soft moan.

That moan was answered by an ever so fucking slightly smug chuckle. Connor kept licking, short little kitten licks, wide broad strokes that lavished attention on the whole area. Finally broad licks became narrower, firmer and when he felt that first push into him, Hank let out another low moan. He'd teased Connor about getting lost doing this, but Hank enjoyed it as much as he did - once he got his head in the right place. 

Hank's head was definitely in the right place now. Strong hands kneaded his ass cheeks as they were held firmly apart. Not having to breathe gave Connor a considerable advantage as well. Hank felt that wet tongue wiggle and thicken and push into him like it fucking belonged there. Hank wasn't about to pretend it didn't.

It wasn't long - or was it? time was becoming fuzzy - until he could feel Connor's drool sliding down his balls from how much he was licking. "Fuck," Hank wanted to grind against the pillow, or back against Connor's mouth. His legs spread more, trying to offer himself up with a gasping little moan.

"Love watching you like this." Connor was throwing his voice and Hank was entirely too gone on him right now to care. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted as long as that tongue kept working him. "Getting wiggly, Hank," he said, digging his fingers into his fleshy ass.

"Feels fucking good is why." Hank rocked back slightly. He was torn, and for a moment his brain shorted out as Connor pushed his tongue in even deeper. Hank would swear to fucking god he somehow made it  **longer** when he rimmed him, but the sassy fucker would never admit to it. 

Usually, calling Connor a traci was a sure fire way to get him from wherever to a hundred  **real** fucking quick. But every time he opened his mouth to say it, the word stuck in his throat. And it wasn't until the third time that he bucked back against Connor that his lust-addled brain figured it out. He didn't want to  _ say  _ it, perverse as it was, he wanted to  _ hear  _ it. 

It took a few gulped breaths to steady himself enough to get Connor's name out, and that was enough to pause the motions going on behind him. "Hank?" His real voice, his tongue having slid free.

Oh fuck, now he had to say what he wanted. "I, uhm. That ... what I say, sometimes." Fuck, where did language? He took another deep breath. Pushing himself up a little gave him just enough of a change that he could actually speak. "What I call you sometimes."

"Yes?" Connor sounded like the cat that ate the canary when he said that. His hands were moving in their slow soothe-the-bear motions as he waited for Hank to get himself together, patient as ever. "You can say it if you want."

"Not, uhm, not what I want." His face was red and he let himself collapse back to the bed, flushed with embarrassment. Fuck if he wasn't still hard, though.

"Oh?" Connor asked softly, then the penny dropped. "Oh!" 

Connor's hands slid up, his body following until he was draped over Hank's back, nuzzling his neck. "You want me to call you that, Hank?" he asked quietly, soft hand brushing Hank's hair out of his face.

Hank nodded, turning his head to look at Connor. Now that it was out, it was a lot easier. Like ripping off a bandaid. "Yeah. N-not too much but, yeah."

Connor shifted to the side, and Hank worried he'd asked too much but Connor put that fear to rest before it even fully formed. "I can do that, for you." He pressed against Hank's side, nuzzling his shoulder as two warm fingers nudged against his still spit slick hole. "You're so open already," he murmured.

Long, slim fingers pushed deep into Hank, and he let out a strangled moan when they found when they were looking for. He could barely catch his breath as Connor teased him. He rocked back, gasping for breath. "Fuck, fuckfuck," he moaned. He was hard, and everything felt good but age and bodily abuse were on his side for once. Took more than this to get him off.

"Know what you sound like, Hank?" Connor purred, nuzzling his neck. "All moany, pushing back on my hand like you can't get enough?" Connor leaned in, brushing a kiss to Hank's ear. "You're just like a traci, Hank."

Connor timed it to a brush to Hank's prostate and for a half a heartbeat Hank was worried that he might just actually come anyway. Then it faded and he was left panting. He hoped it was the novelty of it. "A-am I?" he half growled, half whispered, not even sure where his mind was right now, just knowing he was loving it.

"Oh yeah. Moaning like you are," said sound pushed out by a skilled finger to Hank's prostate. "Wiggling and rubbing against the pillow like you can't get enough. That's  **exactly** what you are."

Hank let out a throaty moan, clenching down on Connor's fingers. Some part of him was glad he'd only said it once, but another part ached to hear it again. The rest of him - somehow let go and put the decision entirely in Connor's hands. All of him was in Connor's hands and for just a moment he felt like he was flying.

The fingers - three now - pushing and twisting in his ass slowly began to ground him and he felt  **so** open, so soft and stretched and  **ready** . "C-con please," he gasped.

"You're doing so well." Connor slowly withdrew his fingers, rubbing them against Hank's asscheek. He could feel the vague motions of Connor's hand at his waist. "You really are ready for me, nice and open." Usually Hank helped with the transition but he wasn't even sure he could  **roll over** on his own right now, let alone fiddle with hidden buttons and secret panels. But Connor seemed to realize all of this. Moving more quickly than he ever did in public, Connor stripped off his pants, then climbed back onto the bed. 

Hank did manage to do a good portion of the work, Connor just providing a few key points of balance until Hank finally sprawled on his back. His ass pulsed deliciously and felt uncomfortably empty. That would soon change. Forgetting any concerns about hygiene, he snagged Connor's arm and pulled him close.

With a grin Connor kissed him, tasting the way he always did, though this mouth was a bit slicker than usual. "Ready for you, Con," Hank murmured. 

Connor knelt between Hank's legs, drawing attention to just how obscenely they were spread now, a far cry from his almost hesitant motions earlier. Fuck, he really was a goddamn traci when it came to Connor, wasn't he? "Almost ready for me," Connor corrected. He reached, stealing a kiss from Hank as he grabbed their lube out of the drawer.

Slick as Hank felt, he was glad of the extra, and loved Connor all the more for it. The coolness made him gasp but it warmed quickly enough as Connor's lightly heated fingers spread it around and inside. Connor shifted closer, rubbing their hips together. For a moment, Hank reached down, grasping both their cocks and they let out a joint moan.

"You're being ver-very distracting," Connor mock complained as he drew Hank's hand away, kissing his palm. He pressed his hand into the bed beside his head as he leaned up for one more kiss.

"Sorry." Hank was not at all so and it showed. Hank began to lift his legs, snagging one under the knee, Connor holding the other. Reaching down, Connor lined himself up and pressed the head in slowly. Connor soon had both legs pushed up, knowing just how far Hank could go before risking discomfort. Feeling sexier than usual, in a way only Connor had ever made him feel, Hank let his hands run over his belly and chest, pinching his nipples. He wanted to say something but the slow press of Connor deeper into him made that difficult.

Connor moved slowly and with care but also steadily pressing in. He always took this part slow, too fucking slow for Hank sometimes. The one time he'd tried to override, had grabbed Connor and pulled him completely in, it had put an end to sex for the night and Hank gotten a very stern but softly spoken lecture on the dangers of taking too much dick too quick,  _ especially  _ if you were a human who didn't get fucked very often  _ at all _ Hank had known all that, he did, but Connor had him so addled, so fucking  _ needy  _ that he'd forgotten it. Only that once though.

So he had to fucking wait. Connor made it worth it. Connor made  _ everything  _ worth it. For a few moments, it wasn't the cock pushing into him that stole Hank's ability to breathe, it was the sudden overwhelming wave of love he felt for the man over him. When Hank felt that sudden pressure of hips against his skin, he ignored the strain to his back and pushed himself up onto one arm. His other reached for Connor, cupping the back of his neck as he pulled him close enough for a firm kiss. "I love you," he whispered, letting out a gasp as he sat back, letting himself feel the stretch and fullness of Connor inside him.

"I love you too," Connor purred. Hank could see it in his rich brown eyes as he began to move. Hank groaned as Conor filled him just right over and over. Connor dick was exactly as long and as thick as it needed to be and Hank loved every inch of it, even when it wasn't turning him into an absolute  **wreck** like it was doing now.

"Fuck!" Hank groaned when it slid over his prostate. "Fuck me," he gasped out when Connor began a series of short motions, bumping the head of his cock against Hank's proste over and over.

"That's the general idea," Connor said with a soft, smug chuckle.

Hank retaliated by clenching. Hard. His reward was a series of deep, firm shoves that left him moaning as his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Connor didn't let up, either, thrusting powerfully into Hank whose only recourse was to push against the headboard to avoid getting his head fucked into it. Hank could barely form thoughts, let alone words as Connor kept driving into him, forcing out an endless series of moans, gasps, and choked off groans. He kept trying to lift his head, to rock his hips, anything but Connor knew just how to blast any kind of thought from his mind.

"Hank, do you know what you sound like right now?" Connor slowed his motions, giving Hank enough space in his brain to formulate an answer.

"T-tell me!" Hank gasped out, wanting - needing - to hear that word again. It didn't apply to him, it had never applied to humans, but hearing Connor using it, that smooth, carefully modulated voice made it sound so fucking filthy, Hank knew this would not be the last time he heard it.

Connor always knew just how to work Hank, and he thrust in a few more times, working his need back up until he was gasping. "You sound-" he rutted hard against Hank's prostate "-like such-" another hard jab and Hank almost saw stars. "-a  **fucking-** " He drew almost fully out and Hank could barely think. "-Traci!" he growled as he slammed in hard.

The combination of the name, Connor swearing, and the piles of physical sensations had Hank's back arching as he cried out, cock spasming as he painted his belly. Connor followed suit, head thrown back as he came, flooding into Hank's clenching body.

Hank lay dazed for a moment, heart pounding, breath coming in harsh gulps. He was dimly aware of his ass slowly being hollowed out, his legs being lowered and a firm, cool pressure against his side. He turned his head slowly and Connor met him in a light, slow kiss. "That was ... fuck," 

Connor smiled, his hand rubbing lightly up and down Hank's belly. "It was," he agreed with a cheeky smile. "Are you alright?"

Hank made himself think about the question before nodding. "Places we haven't, ah, haven't fuckin' gone before but it was good." His arm wiggled under Connor to pull him closer and wrap around his shoulder. "I've never come just from getting fucked before," he murmured, though Connor knew that.

"I'm aware. I believe I'm justified in feeling an immense amount of pride at that. I'll be playing that memory over quite a bit."

"Smug fucker," Hank chuckled. "Maybe, uh, maybe I'll watch sometime." Hank was okay with his body usually, but the idea of watching himself having sex usually made him think of some nature documentary about the mating habits of the North American Gray Bear. But what they'd just done had been pretty fucking special and someday he might be in the right frame of mind to watch it.

Connor's expression softened and he leaned in for a kiss. "I'd love to watch it with you," he promised. "But are you okay?" Connor asked again, apparently not satisfied entirely with Hank's answer so far.

Already more clear headed than a moment ago, Hank nodded. "I am," Hank murmured. "It was intense, and I'm not sure I'll be up for a repeat of the-of the traci thing right away. But it was very, very satisfying, Connor. Thank you." Hank cupped Connor's cheek and pulled him in for a slow kiss. "Also, I think you owe me a new spine."

Connor laughed softly. "I can offer another massage." Connor relaxed now that it Hank was on more stable ground. 

"Actually," Hank said thoughtfully, hand skimming down Connor's arm to find his hand and lace their fingers. "What I want right now, is to sit on the couch, eat a  _ shockingly  _ unhealthy breakfast, which I'm owed because I just fucked off more than enough calories to pay for it, and cuddle with my lover while we talk about what the fuck we're gonna do with  _ six goddamn puppies _ ," he groaned the last one, their linked hands coming up as he flopped his forearm over his eyes.

Connor laughed and gently unbent Hank's arm so he could lean in to kiss him. "I'll make you those bacon and cheese eggs you like. And hash browns," he added before Hank could ask. "And we only have to figure out where to put three and a half of them."

+++++

For the tenth time in as many minutes, Hank made a mental note to never, ever,  _ ever  _ bottom in the morning again. It didn't hurt as such, between the care Connor took in prepping him and the cream he'd tenderly applied after just in case. But every time he shifted, breathed, moved,  _ anything  _ he was reminded of that deep, driving feeling. Of Connor's tongue working him open till he couldn't speak. Of coming so hard he thought he might never stop.

Connor's shit eating grin proved he knew exactly what Hank was thinking about.

Hank had gotten everything he wanted that morning - a deliciously greasy breakfast, with the unspoken condition that Connor wasn't allowed to say anything about it, either, and snuggling with Connor. They'd discussed the puppies but short of Connor giving him detailed updates on his progress while he ate, they hadn't be able to come to much in the way of decisions. They had arranged for someone from Jericho familiar with animal care to feed them during the day while they worked.

They did have plans to take Sumo by the area Connor had been told about. That memory mde Hank smile. After Connor had described it, Hank had asked for a playback and confirmed - she'd been flirting. Hank generally didn't do possessive - he'd seen too often where that could easily end up. But there was possessive, and there was  _ possessive _ . Talking your dog on a walk with your boyfriend, on a legitimate search for another dog wasn't  _ possessive _ . 

Even if Hank happened to keep his arm around Connor's shoulders, just in case they ran into anyone. The Millenial rebel in him usually felt like making a point about their relationship. They had privilege, and he intended to use it. Hank was not a small guy, nor was Connor, and they were police officers. Add to the fact that Hank was a decorated and _ high ranking _ police officer, and Connor was a key figure in android liberation- If anyone could get away with being human/android couple like they were, it was them. So  _ he'd _ rub it in people's faces because other people couldn't.

He stared at the suspect file on the screen before him and sighed. "I'm getting some coffee," he said, barely suppressing a whispered fuck as the motion reminded him vividly of this morning.

Seeing Gavin in there was just his luck. Hank braced himself for their usual barbs, then Gavin, whose back was to Hank, took a few steps to get something out of the cabinet. A few very specifically careful steps. He knew Nines and Gavin were fuckbuddies or whatever, but Gavin didn't usually look quite so ... ginger about things.

Reed turned as he approached. "Lieutenant," he growled, but anything else was arrested when he gave Hank a brief look and saw the very careful way  _ Hank  _ was walking.

Reaching the counter, Hank drew himself up, not looming, but subtly reminding Gavin of his height, and looking him square in the eye, daring him to say anything. "Detective," he rumbled before reaching for the coffee pot. 

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Gavin merely nodded. He opened the fresh box of stirrers he'd gotten out of the cabinet, dropped three into his coffee and strode - carefully - out.

Well, looks like Nines was starting to pound some sense into the little shit. If he kept up not being a complete dick, he might just get a puppy after all.

Hank grabbed a bottle of thirium for Connor, always feeling weird getting coffee for himself and nothing for his partner.

"I obtained some information while you were up, Lieutenant," Connor said smoothly. Most of the office - and Fowler - knew they were together, but they both agreed to downplay it while actually at work.

"Anything good?" he set the bottle on Connor's desk and coughed to suppress his gasp as he sat.

"Indeed. Several men matching the descriptions of our suspects were seen entering the warehouse. I would advise we monitor the situation, as it seems likely that we'll be able to obtain further information, or possible multiple arrests."

And they'd be out of the office for a good couple of hours or more, most likely. He could just kiss his fucking android. "Sounds like good advice. I take you've already reserved the necessary equipment?"

"It'll be waiting for us." Connor pulled on his coat and pocketed the thirium while Hank swallowed down the slightly too hot coffee, wiping his mouth before he stood, suppressing a grimace.

He honestly didn't know if Connor had been bullshitting, or if he'd carefully combed through what they were working on to tweak things to allow for this. Or if it was just sheer fucking luck. "Have I said today I love you?" Hank asked as he pulled up where they could discreetly monitor the warehouse.

"You say every time you look at me."

Hank cleared his throat, flushing just a little. "Good. That's good."

"Can I make an observation that may prove a trifle embarrassing?" Connor asked, cracking open his thirium and taking a sip, momentarily distracting Hank as he licked the blue substance from his lips.

"Uhm, sure." The question finished parsing only after he agreed.

"Watching you and Gavin coming out of the break room was highly amusing."

Hank laughed softly. Okay, yeah, he could understand that. "Are we both that obvious? Normally we'd have a go automatically now, but this time we were both ... I don't know, is he growing up, or was it some weird fucked-out-bottom solidarity thing?"

"While we occasionally play with who penetrates whom, You, Hank Anderson, are not, and will never be  **_a_ ** _ bottom _ ," Connor assured him, and it did make him feel a little better.

"That's good to know." Hank glanced around, though he knew Connor had the whole area covered, between his own senses and the added surveillance gear they'd checked out. "But basically the question still stands, I've never seen Gavin that ... subdued. "

"That is probably owing to a bargain Nines proposed yesterday and Gavin accepted. If Gavin behaved himself while visiting the puppies, he would be rewarded. I suspect he was 'rewarded' vigorously enough that he decided to  _ continue  _ behaving, at least where we're concerned. He did seem quite enamored of the puppies."

"Huh," Hank shook his head. "So puppies and some epic dick is all it took to calm him down."

"Have you given that much thought to the quality of Nines' sexual endeavors?" Connor asked, eyebrow raised.

Hank chuckled softly. "Not even a little bit, but you two are cut from the same cloth, kinda, and if  _ you _ , a certified twink, can get  _ my  _ fat ass begging for it, I can only imagine what Nines is like about it."

Connor's response was to undo his seatbelt, lean over and catch Hank's mouth in a brief kiss. "I love you," Connor whispered before sitting back down.

"Love you too, sweetheart." Hank smiled. "I wanna spend some time with just you, but maybe Gavin can come over on the weekend, if he keeps up the good behavior. I don't care how it's achieved."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." 

They turned their minds back to their jobs even as Hank reached over and laced his fingers with Connor's, enjoying the smooth coolness of them.

The stakeout was a bust, the men they saw coming out later, with a closer look, were not their suspects. 

After putting in a few more hours - including one extra to make up for the last few days - they finally clocked out.

At home, Connor made them a stir fry while they discussed pet owners, and Hank had his first round of feeding them. They sat on the floor, Connor guiding his hands and oh god they were so tiny. Connor had been right, a puppy fit neatly into the palm of his hand.

On one hand, the fucker who'd left them could and should be charged with some **fucking** thing, on the other, Connor's face when he watched the puppies was worth everything in the world. 

Once they were fed, Hank sat back, watching Connor carefully tuck them all into their basket, making sure they had clean bedding, couldn't get out, and plenty of warmth. Talking quietly at them the whole time.

Watching him fuss so much reminded him of himself a decade ago and he felt that familiar ache swell up. Nothing would ever erase the loss or completely fill the hole. But Connor was making a damn good start of it. The hardest part sometimes was reconciling the fact that the two most important people in his life could never meet. 

For all that he was only a year and change into having emotions, sometimes Connor handled them better than he did. Connor, for example, never felt the need to get drunk - or whatever would do it for androids - because he simply couldn't handle  **feeling** anymore.

"What're you thinking about?" Connor asked, and Hank opened his eyes, realizing he was kneeling in front of Hank, between his bent and splayed legs.

"You," He said with a smile, caressing his cheek. "Cole. Family. Watching you with them, so ... careful, so sweet, two days and you love them so much. Reminds me of me, when-." In spite of his best efforts, he felt his throat thicken and his eyes itch. He took a deep steadying breath as Connor moved forward, arms around him. He hugged him tight, soaking up the comfort.

"We can go another night," Connor offered as he drew back. They'd planned to go check out the possible stray tonight. "I'll take Sumo for a quick walk."

"Nah," Hank smiled, shaking his head. "I'll be okay. Better this than a bottle." Hank wiped at the tears that leaked in spite of his best efforts. "Come on, help an old fucker up."

Connor crouched, drawing Hank's arm around his shoulder. "Haven't we been here before?" he asked.

"Yeah but this time I'm not gonna throw up, or yell at you," Hank promised as they got him to his feet. "Fuck I'm too old to be sitting on the floor." He knew good and well it would keep happening, though.

Clipping on Sumo's leash, they drove towards the area. With Connor's directions, they first did a drive by but nothing presented itself. A lingering look on Conor's part confirmed where the other android lived. They could avoid her house by taking a longer route around the area on foot, but they weren't going to.

They found a place to park and climbed out. Hank dropped his arm around Connor's shoulders, his other hand on Sumo's leash. They talked quietly about cases, Hank's family, Jericho, and nothing at all. Connor scanned out as far as he could, reporting only raccoons, squirrels, a small feral cat colony, but no dogs.

When they were three quarters of the way done, they ran into the android who'd given Connor the advice. Hank could see her smile falter for a moment when she saw and recognized them, but to her credit she powered on. "Hi," she said, waving at them, drawing her own dog to a stop as they faced each other. "I'm Brad," she offered Hank her hand.

"Brad." Hank unwound his arm from Connor's shoulder and shook her hand. "I'm Hank, Connor," he tipped his head at Connor, noting his lover looked a wee bit embarrassed. 

"I wanted to thank you for your assistance. We haven't located the stray as yet, but we haven't searched the entire area."

"Yeah, I hope you find him. I haven't seen him since we talked, so he might have moved on, but good luck!" she said cheerfully before departing.

They were well out of earshot before Hank let himself ask "'Brad?'" Since android liberation, body modification, and even complete transfers were easy enough that "trans" for androids didn't exist the way it did for humans. If you wanted to become female or male, you went to Jericho, had either certain parts switched out, or a whole new body assembled and transferred into it.

"She was a child care model," Connor said, leaning closer to Hank as he spoke. "Most are named by the parents, but a lot of them were named by the children in their care. And I'm sure you know even better than me how young children don't necessarily understand or care about gender. I did a brief search and she was registered as Peter seven months before android liberation."

The comment about gender made Hank smile just a bit sadly. "Cole was Jarielle for his forth halloween. Latest Disney movie and he couldn't get enough of it."

"Did he get picked on?"

"Nah. Once upon a time, maybe. Other places, maybe. But not here. Of course, the fact that his escort was six foot four and in a police uniform ..." Hank gave a shrug as he grinned. Somehow, even when it hurt, Connor made talking about Cole easier. And that made it hurt a little less.

Connor laughed softly, stopping them just long enough to turn and kiss him lightly. "I missed you," Connor admitted. "I know I've been saying that, and it was only a few days, and it's silly-"

"Hey, hey, sweetheart." Hank cupped his cheek, tipping his face up. "I missed the fuck out of you too, Connor. Next time, I'm bringing you with me, and Fowler can fuck  _ directly  _ off if he doesn't like it." He gave Connor a light kiss. It was interrupted by a sharp tug on his leash. Sharp enough that he almost lost his grip. "Fuck!"

Parting, he felt Sumo trying to pull away towards some bushes. "Con?" 

"I see something moving." He reached into Hank's pocket, grabbing one of the milk bones they'd brought for coaxing out the dog if they found him. "It's about the right size." He approached slowly.

The fact that Sumo was merely pulling at his leash and not actively attempting to get free assured Hank a little. If Sumo was certain the other animal was a threat, not even Hank could hold him. "Easy, boy, easy." Hank twisted his arm, circling the leash once around his hand before he knelt, rubbing Sumo's ruff and feeling him relax slightly.

Connor was crouching as he approached, scooting along the ground. He finally set the milk bone on the curb and moved back. What eventually emerged was a sorry looking creature and Hank felt a surge of both sorrow and rage.

It was a Saint Bernard, but it was not a well cared for one. One ear was missing entirely, and Hank saw it was limping. He watched Connor shift, placing himself more directly between the dog and Hank. To Hank's eyes, the animal didn't look rabid, but there was no way to be sure. If Connor got bit, it wouldn't make him sick, and he'd keep it from getting any further.

Not that this thing looked like it would have the energy to bite. Its head swayed, drooping a little and finally found the milk bone, snapping it up.

With it occupied, Connor began to move closer and Hank could make out soft murmuring noises, similar to how he talked to the puppies and Sumo. The dog lifted his head slowly, tipping it to the side as he regarded Connor. 

The android fished another bone out of his own pocket and offered it, letting it rest on his open palm. After a sniff, the dog took it, chewing eagerly. Unsurprisingly, Hank watched Connor touch his tongue to a spot on his hand and his whole body relaxed. He beckoned them to come closer.

Hank kept Sumo close, not wanting him to dart and alarm the other dog. Up close he looked both worse and better. The missing ear eat least looked like an old wound, what Hank took for mangy fur was just either very dirty or a strange coloration. His tail looked bent and the fur matted and darkly crusted. He was skinny but not emaciated.

Once Sumo was close enough, he lowered his head a little. He wasn't crouching in submission but he wasn't trying to intimidate the other dog, either. They sniffed at each other while Connor stood, sliding his hand into Hank's. "There's an animal hospital about ten miles from here. They're expecting us."

"Good. So, you talked to the hand, what's it say?" He didn't even bother pretending to be skeeved at what found its way into Connor's mouth, he just knew to wait a few minutes before kissing him.

"No rabies, no parvo, nothing that could endanger Sumo. Malnourished but not incredibly so." Their heads were bent together, voices low as Sumo did most of the negotiating for them. "I can't find a microchip or any other identifier." He smiled at Hank. "And he's our missing sire."

"Oh that's good," Hank sighed, glad of ... all of that. As he spoke, the new dog dropped down, then lay on its side, before trying to weakly offer its belly. "You wanna wait here, I'll go get the car?" 

"Actually, I can get to the car faster if I run. None of his injuries are urgent but it's cold, and getting colder,"

"Yeah, fuckin' noticed that," He hadn't, actually except now he did and shivered. "Okay, yeah go get the car," He tugged him in for a kiss then watched him sprint down the street. "Fuckin' showoff," he grumbled, then crouched. "You make a new friend, boy?" he asked with a smile. He slowly offered the dog his hand, grateful that he didn't flinch away. So whatever he'd suffered it hadn't given him an aversion to humans yet.

By the time Connor pulled up, Hank was very gently scratching just behind the ear of an extremely grateful dog. Connor approached with the blanket they kept in the truck. Moving carefully, he first covered the dog, then wrapped him up before lifting him. "He's too light," Connor observed and Hank could hear the sadness.

Hank opened the passenger door, helping Connor in, then he urged Sumo into the back. The stray was on the front seat between them, Connor's hand poised to hold him in place should anything happen.

Thankfully, nothing did, and they arrived at the animal hospital a short time later.

Since neither of them had claim to the dog, and he didn't seem stressed by the staff, Hank and Connor sat in the waiting room while he was tended to.

About an hour later one of the technicians came out and gave them a summary. He was around five years old, malnourished, and his tail had been mauled by some animal, possibly raccoon or a cat or a small dog, in the last few days. He was limping because of an infection in his front paw from a minor scratch. From the mud and dirt they'd washed off him, he'd been traveling for some time, through a host of different terrains. No microchip, no tattoo. And the canine DNA database was down for maintenance until the following week.

Between the course of antibiotics and the iv nourishment they wanted to give him, they recommended he be boarded at the hospital for a few days anyway. 

Paperwork was signed, with promises to contact them as soon as the database was back up or if there were any changes, and Hank, Connor, and Sumo finally went home.

+++++

The following morning, Hank was actually the first out of bed, Connor still in deep stasis. Even though it wasn't necessary, Hank drew the covers up over Connor's bare shoulder before kissing his cheek.

A quick shower, comb through his hair, and Hank found himself in the living room, several warm bottles of formula in hand as he eased himself to the ground. "Too fuckin' old for this shit, guys," he rumbled. 

The basket of puppies was still mostly asleep except for one. Tiny head lifted and bobbed before a yawn split it open. "You hungry?" he asked, stroking a finger down the impossibly tiny puppy's side. When his finger gently pet behind his ear, the dog turned his head to try and gnaw and suckle. "I take that as a yes," he chuckled.

A trembling hand reached into the basket, almost afraid he'd accidently crush the tiny, frail body. He was amazed - and not a little turned on - at Connor's gentle confidence when handling them. "Come here, you," he murmured as he double checked the bottle before starting to nurse the pup.

Hank fed the first one until he rejected the nipple twice. Setting the bottle aside, Hank gently wiped the tiny (impossibly tiny!) muzzle. Then he lifted the pup, flopped easily in his palm and let it nuzzle against his beard, eyes closing as he smiled.

It wasn't until he lowered the pup to tuck him back into the basket that he realized Connor had seen. "Morning," the smiling android said as he crossed the room to join them.

"Hey." Hank flushed a bit at being caught, leaning in to kiss Connor lightly. "You were asleep so I thought I'd, uhm ... I don't have your finesse," he chuckled as he carefully scooped up a second one.

"You'll get the hang of it." Connor stole a second kiss. "Breakfast?" he offered.

"I'd love a coffee," Hank admitted. "Still gotta wake up before I decide on food." Though knowing Connor, he'd start something anyway and it would be exactly what Hank was hungry for. Or he'd be hungry for it because it's what Connor was making. Either way they both ended up happy.

"Okay." Another few light kisses and Connor slid gracefully to his feet. 

Hank didn't miss the way his hips swayed more than necessary. "Tease!" he called after the departing android.

Connor's ass gave a very deliberate wiggle as his only response.

Hank was just setting the second pup aside when the blessed smell of coffee began to fill the house. Over a year since Connor had moved in and part of Hank didn't think he'd ever be entirely used to it. He switched to a new bottle and began to feed pupper number three. Not that he wasn't used to Connor, he realized. Just that he wasn't taking Connor for granted.

At least Hank fucking hoped he wasn't. He'd stopped believing in god a few years ago but Hank still sent the occasional thank you prayer his way. Every day with Connor was a good day. Even the bad ones. Those days when cases were nasty and hours ran long and neither had any patience. When they snapped and grumbled and growled at each other like a pair of feral dogs.

But it never went beyond that. They never hurt each other, verbally or otherwise. Hank had first realized just how much better he was with Connor on a day like that, about three months into their relationship.

A bad case, very bad. Ones … like that always were, and this was one of the worst. Hank had been getting over a cold and was surly anyway. Drop the case on top of that and he was downright nasty. Hank snarled, retreated, pushed Connor away when he offered kindness and stormed out.

Then he'd gone for a walk, intending to park on a stool at Jimmy's until he was either sent home or fetched like a fucking errant child. Anything to take his mind off the case and everything that it brought up.

In the end, though, he'd wound up just circling the block, bypassing the bar, and two others, and finally coming home. Hank had still felt like a steaming pile of shit, but just seeing Connor in the kitchen, cooking like nothing was wrong almost made him cry with thankfulness.

Maybe he  _ had  _ cried. It didn't matter, he knew he'd apologized though. Haltingly, slowly, unable to meet Connor's steady gaze, but he'd said the words, and they were easier than he'd feared.

When the puppy Hank was feeding finished, Hank wiped his muzzle, then held him up, turning him to face the kitchen and Connor's back. "See that?" he whispered, his voice pitching up a little. "That's your stepdaddy which makes you one of the luckiest puppers in the world," he felt extremely sappy but he couldn't suppress it and didn't want to try.

It was far away but Hank knew Connor could hear and he liked to think he he was enjoying what he heard.

He was mid puppy when Connor approached with a steaming mug of coffee, setting it nearby. He bent, tipping Hank's chin up for a slow, lingering kiss. "They  _ are  _ very lucky," Connor murmured. "But not because of me." Warm brown eyes lingered on blue. "Breakfast sandwich?" Connor offered.

"Mmmm, sounds delicious. We have any of that sourdough left?" Connor had taken to baking their own bread, which Hank was really liking.

"Enough for two nice thick slices," Another kiss and Connor was back in the kitchen.

"Someday, when you're older," Hank began in a fatherly voice as he gazed down at the puppy in his arm. Hand. "I'll tell you how your step daddy and I met." Calling Connor the puppies stepdaddy felt right. It soothed something inside him and he smiled.

Hank finished the feedings, giving Sumo a scratch and grunting his way to his feet just as Connor finished the sandwich. Striding across the kitchen, he wound his arms around Connor's waist. "Kids are all fed," he murmured against his neck.

"Good." Connor leaned back. "Now to feed their stepdaddy." He turned in Hank's arms, one arm draping around his shoulder as he kissed him slowly. "You looked amazing with them."

Hank smiled "I'm just so scared of hurting them. How are they so fucking tiny, Con?" Hank shook his head. 

"You won't, Hank," Connor assured him with a light kiss. "And they'll get bigger, I promise." Then Connor gently turned him and nudged him towards the table.

Hank sat and took a bite of the sandwich, moaning softly. He could taste a few differences to how he used to do it, Connor always trying to cut down the shit in his diet, but he was used to things this way now, and honestly he preferred Connor's cooking to just about anything else.

"You enjoy breakfast, I'll walk Sumo, assuming I can pry him away from the puppies." Sumo seemed just as taken with the puppies as him and Connor and Hank couldn't be happier.

"Noticed that one of them looks a fair bit like Sumo," Hank pointed out, watching Connor pull his coat on.

"I noticed. I think Sumo might have as well," Connor gave a wave, hooked the leash to Sumo's collar, and headed out.

Hank sat back, eating his sandwich slowly. While they hadn't really discussed the details, they both knew they were keeping one of them. None of the six looked like a full blood copy of either parent, but within that there was a lot of room for variation. Setting his sandwich on his plate, he strolled over to the couch. With the plate on the coffee table, Hank lifted the basket, setting it down on the couch beside him as he sat.

One hand held the sandwich, his other gently petting and playing with the slowly waking pups. He tickled the tummy of the one who looked most like Sumo, his brown patches a little lighter, but the white patches were basically white. The far end of the scale was one with a golden retriever coat, with only a few slightly darker areas and a dark brown muzzle. The other four were somewhere in between.

He finished his sandwich and brushed the crumbs off his fingers before very carefully scooping up the Sumo looking one, wiggling down on the couch and setting the pup on his chest. It wiggled around once and fell asleep and Hank just sat and gazed at it. A finger brushed down the dog's side. "How about Judo?" he murmured, wanting a name that went with Sumo. "Think Connor would like that? Sumo and Judo?"

The pup gave a sleepy rrf and flopped one paw. 

"I'll take that as a yes." Hank chuckled as he kept gently stroking the tiny body draped over his chest. He let his head relax onto the couch and just allowed his mind to drift as he waited for Connor to come back.

When he woke up, it was to the sound of stifled giggles and he felt some light but weird pressure on his chest and neck. "Don't move!" Connor said quickly when Hank began to lift an arm.

"Connor, the fuck is going on?" he grumbled but held still. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. 

After a moment, Connor approached and lifted a puppy off each of Hank's shoulders. "I'm sorry, but I came in, and you were asleep." He continued plucking dogs off of Hank as he spoke. "And you didn't wake up, and you had the one puppy so I ..."

The TV turned on suddenly and Hank saw himself, head lolling to the side, snoring, with the puppies, all six of them draped over his body, including tucked around his neck.

He thought he looked awful, but then he imagined Connor looking exactly like that and his heart clutched. "Just don't ever show that to anyone," he grumbled, giving his chest a brief brushing.

"Got it," Connor said cheerily on a tone that Hank knew meant it might as well have already been sent to absolutely everyone on the planet.

"Why the fuck do I put up with you?" Hank said, making a 'help me up' gesture with his hand. Except once Connor took hold, Hank gave a sharp pull and toppled the android into his lap.

Moving quickly enough to make sure no one got hurt, Connor landed straddling Hank, their chests bumping. "Because I put up with you," Connor murmured and they shared a slow, sweet kiss, with Connor's arms twined around Hank's neck. 

Hank's hands swept up Connor's hips as the kiss lingered and the android settled more flush against him. When Connor drew away with low whine, Hank sighed. "Work," he grumbled, when Connor slid off.

The puppy basket was returned to the floor and Sumo took up his post beside it. Hank and Connor donned jackets, made a final check of everything in the house before heading off to work.

+++++

Connor came out of stasis when a message ping tickled the back of his brain. He pressed his face further into Hank's chest as he answered silently. "Connor speaking."

"This is the Detroit Animal Hospital, you requested a call as soon as we had any information on the dog your brought in on Wednesday."

Oh, right. "Yes?" Connor didn't need or crave sleep the way humans did, but right now all he wanted was to just press closer to Hank and not have anything else in the entire world demanding his attention.

"The database is still down, but we were searching the missing animal registry and we found an entry from several months ago that seems relevant." Connor listened as the woman spoke, absently checking the time. About an hour before they got up anyway, so not super early. 

Still. Hank was warm and soft and- Connor shifted his thigh just slightly and grinned. Maybe it would be worth waking up early after all. "-owners moved approximately six months ago." Connor frowned and relayed the part of the conversation he hadn't paid any attention to whatsoever. According to her, the dog's name was Billie, his owners were Mac and Aimee Flores and they'd been looking for him since shortly after they moved. Caught up, he listened as she continued. "I can contact their vet for a dna sample to be scanned directly and sent to us for confirmation."

"Yes. Do that, please. Bill the card on file for any necessary expenses. Call me again when you have an update." Hanging up, Connor decided to make it  **very** worth getting up early.

Step one, nudge Hank onto his back. A few nuzzly kisses to his shoulder accomplished that task, with Connor following him, clinging somewhat like a lemur. He nuzzled his chin, savoring the pricklysoft feel of Hank's beard on his face.

Step two, take care of pesky barriers. Sheets and blankets were pushed aside easily enough. The boxers took a little more effort. Not very much, though. He pressed light kisses to Hank's chest, vaguely tracing the various tattoos he had. His cool breath ghosted over a nipple as his hand carefully lifted the waistband, then slid down, drawing his erection up and out, allowing the elastic to slide into place under Hank's full balls.

Step three, see how far down he could get before Hank woke up. Connor moved slowly, keeping his touches light. More feather light kisses to his chest, activating the moisture in his mouth. Enough that when his tongue laved over a plump nipple, it left a trail. He continued, soft kisses and nuzzles down Hank's robust body, savoring every full inch. Reaching his belly button, Connor pressed his face in, firmly enough that if he were human he'd be unable to breathe.

Connor could begin to feel stirrings, a hand moving along the bed, Hank's breathing starting the transition from steady and asleep to awake and slightly irregular. Mm, must hurry then. He wiggled down further, his hand curling around Hank's erection. Thumb wetting itself on the leaking slit, stroking the bulbous head.

Connor timed it well, his mouth getting into place just as Hank's rough voice began to speak. "Con-" the drawn out syllable was broken off with a groan as Connor took him down swiftly. His mouth had ample time to prepare he swallowed Hank's cock as easily as anything, letting his throat vibrate with his moan of pleasure.

"Fuck, Connor," Hank growled as his hips pushed up. "Eager?" he panted, his hand sliding into Connor's hair.

Connor's grunt to the affirmative was largely muffled around Hank's cock, and he deliberately didn't project the sounds. He slid his hands up Hanks thighs, then curled his fingers and very lightly dragged his nails down, not hard enough to leave even faint welts, but just enough to send a very clear signal to Hank. Don't hold back.

Message received, loud and clear. The firm hand in his hair curled, getting a good grip before Hank lowered his hips. Connor whimpered, then groaned when the were pushed back up in time to Connor's head being pushed down.

"Greedy," Hank moaned. "I'm barely even awake yet, and you just can't wait for my cock." He pushed himself up on one hand, eyes meeting Connor's as he rocked his hips up. "Know what you are, Connor?" he asked.

Connor shook his head, deliberately moving Hank's cock in his throat. His eyes were heavy lidded but eager as he kept sucking as much as he could. Hank pulled Connor's head up watching his lips hollow. "You're a fucking traci is what you are." 

Connor's hips jerked reflexively, cock rubbing against the mattress as he moaned. His hips kept working as Hank pulled him down, stuffing into his throat. He was held there, longer than would be safe for a human as Hank rolled his hips, just savoring the tight, artificially warm channel created by Connor's mouth and throat.

Hank eased Connor up off his cock, then sat up. "Floor," he growled, swinging his feet off the bed.

Connor scrambled to obey, kneeling between hank's feet, his own legs spread, cock aching. Without waiting, he surged forward, sucking Hank's thick cock into his mouth, groaning when he felt those huge hands cradling his head. 

"How'd I get so fucking lucky?" he growled down at Connor. "Prettiest fucking mouth," He drew out, his cock resting against Connor's face as he traced his thumb over his swollen lips. Then he pushed back in, forcing his way down Connor's ready throat. "And anything else I wanna fuck. Bet you're already wet for me, aren't you?"

Connor shook his head, drawing back to explain. Hank's hands refused to let him. "Turn them on. Both. Don't know if I'll do anything but fuck your hungry little mouth, but I want you wet for me just the same."

Moaning, Connor's LED flickered as he sent the commands. His self lubrication was tied to voluntary and involuntary controls, Connor flipped the involuntary switches, which produced lubricant based on his arousal.

It wasn't long before he had slick dripping down his thighs while Hank slowly fucked his mouth. Hank gripped the top of his head to hold him still. "Open your mouth." When Connor did so, Hank began to stroke his cock. At first, he worried Hank was already close to finishing. Then he realized he was just milking precome onto Connor's tongue. "Now you hold onto that," He gently pushed Connor's chin up, closing his mouth.

"On the bed," Hank patted the bed, still stroking his cock. Knowing well what Hank liked, Connor climbed up, brushing his lean body against Hank's lucious one before laying on his back. His thighs glistened as he pulled his legs up and apart.

Hank moved to stand at the foot of the bed. "Fuck you look amazing, Con," He growled before crawling onto the bed, kneeling between Connor's legs. "I still can't fucking believe," Hank slid two fingers down his thigh and between his cheeks, pushing into his soft ass. "That you have everything," his other hand stroked his vagina, "That I could possibly want," he sank two fingers in, and Connor had to struggle to keep still.

He loved being Hank's plaything specifically because Hank almost never asked it of him. He gave himself to Hank, and only then did he take and use like this. As if Connor really  _ were  _ a traci. Even the thought made him shudder now. "F-for you, Hank. All for you," he had to struggle to get the words out, via projecting, keeping his mouth carefully closed and not swallowing as he'd been told.

"I know, that's what I love so much about it," he groaned. He added a finger to each hole, six total working in and out of him now. The combination left Connor gasping. His genitals were all customized, specifically to accommodate Hank's tastes and size. A six month anniversary gift. Prior to that he'd had only a single, if flexible, access port, and no phallus.

Since he hadn't been expecting a six month gift, Hank had had to improvise. Breaking in all three of Connor's new parts very much served as a gift that left them both deeply satisfied, even if Hank could barely get it up for several days after.

Hank kept fingering both holes, and Connor could see him enjoying the different textures. They weren't human accurate - but something like. Hank had apparently made his decision as he withdrew both hands and scooted closer. 

Strong hands guided Connor's legs down to wrap around his hips before hank lowered himself. Positioned like this, he was bigger than Connor, seemed taller, was definitely broader and Connor loved it. his arms slid up Hank's sides, then around his back to try and pull him closer. His mouth finally opened under Hank's, letting him taste his deposit from earlier, feeling that broad chest rumble with pleasure.

"Love you, Connor," Hank growled when he broke the kiss. Reaching down, he guided himself to Connor's ass and sank into him with a hungry growl.

"Love you, too," Connor groaned, loving every second of this. Loved the weight of Hank against him, his presence all around him. And that thick cock pushing him open.

Hank thrust, slow at first, but quickly building up speed to something deep and primal. "So fucking wet," Hank growled. He drew back and Connor could feel his accumulated lubricant oozing out for a moment before Hank pushed back in. "Really like it this much? Getting that wet just for my cock?"

"Yes, yes," Connor gasped, clutching to Hank's back. "I have to turn it off sometimes," he admitted. "Usually. Otherwise I'd be a mess."

Hank drove in deep with a growl. "Someday, sweetheart," he groaned against Conor's neck. "Gonna make you leave it on all weekend. See how wet you really get around me."

Letting out a keening whine, Connor rocked up against him, ass fluttering around Hank's cock. "I'd have to have a towel, I'll get everything wet. Soaked." Perhaps a teensy exaggeration but honestly not much. Partly because Connor knew how much Hank liked a mess. He liked dripping holes and drool covered chins. Connor wondered if it was an imitation of sloppy seconds. He was about to make a note to ask when Hank withdrew suddenly.

By the time Connor's brain caught up to the fact that his ass was empty, his vagina very quickly wasn't and he let out a strangled moan. Hank thrust hard and deep for several moments before seating himself and kissing Connor hungrily. "Can only do that with you, sweetheart," he purred. Then he reached down, withdrawing from his vagina and pushing right back into his ass.

Times like this Connor wished swearing came more naturally to him because he couldn't find any other words that could begin to express the pleasure he was in. All he could do was moan and cling to Hank, blunt nails digging into his back.

Hank kept that up, lingering in each hole, a dozen strokes, two minutes, Connor never knew, then moving to the other. There was a puddle under Connor and he thought dazedly that they might have to replace the  _ mattress  _ Hank was working him up so much.

"Make me wish I had two dicks," Hank murmured between deep kisses. "Fuck you in both holes at once. Give you the stuffing a proper Traci needs."

Connor cried out, his whole body going into overload. Electricity crackled along his synthetic nerves as he came, spasming around-whichever hole Hank was buried in, he couldn't even tell anymore. His balls twitched, pumping imitation semen out of his throbbing cock.

Despite not needing to, Connor lay panting, his body trembling, arms and legs akimbo as he hovered on the brink of overload induced stasis, clinging to consciousness. He felt Hank sliding out - ass, apparently - and flop onto the bed beside him, gulping for breath himself. "Didju?" Connor's lips felt floppy, useless and he tried again. "Did you come?" He had been so out of it, he was still trying to piece together everything.

"Almost fuckin' blacked out from it, jesus." Hank's arm moved, and between the two of them, Connor was soon tucked against his side. "How do you do it to me, Connor?" He murmured. "Old bastard like me should  _ not  _ be able to fuck you like I do." He nuzzled Connor and a scan proved his vitals were returning to normal.

Connor's systems were starting to wind down, backing away from overload and he nestled closer to Hank. "You know," he nuzzled his shoulder "You aren't actually that old. Humans live to twice your age, easily." Connor pushed up, hand braced on the bed, gazing down at Hank's face. He caressed one cheek, turning his head gently. "I, for one, plan on doing my level best to make  _ sure  _ you live to a hundred at the very least." His voice was soft but his eyes were steely and firm.

Hank's hand swept absently up and down his back. "I love you, Connor," he murmured. "Some days I already feel like I'm on borrowed time. But then I look at you, or hell, I just think of you sometimes and ... Borrowed, stolen, gifted, I'll take whatever time I can get with you."

Connor made a soft sound in the back of his throat, sitting up and leaning into kiss Hank, letting himself get pulled to drape over him as they kissed, soft and slow but deep. "I love you too," he whispered. "And I meant it, Hank. Fifty more years," he gently poked his chest."

Hank regarded Connor for a long time, and if he had an LED Connor was sure it would be yellow. "Lemme up," he said, softening the non sequitur with a gentle kiss.

Curious, Connor eased off him, sprawling on the bed, watching Hank stand. "Where are you going?" He asked curiously.

"Fuck fuck," Hank whispered, clearly in response to his joints popping as he stretched. He finished and shot Connor a smile that he could best describe as mysterious, with a bit of surprisingly shy? "There was, uhm, something else I wanted to do, when I was out in California," he cleared his throat, moving over to his closet and grabbing a tiny box off the top shelf and Connor realized he'd never seen it before.

Returning to the bed, Hank sat down, leaning against the headboard. Deeply curious, thirium pump fluttering as he felt the air get a bit heavier in the room, Connor moved to sit cross legged facing him. 

"This was my great grandmother's," he said, turning the small box over and over in his hands, watching it as he spoke. "I wanted to, uhm, have it sized. She had tiny hands. I mean, I don't know if you'd even want to, uhm. It isn't, I mean, isn't even legal. Yet. Might never be."

Connor's chest tightened as he began to realize what Hank was probably talking about. Unnecessary breath nevertheless caught in his throat when he tried to speak and he gazed at Hank. His hand trembled faintly as he reached for Hank's, gently stopping the nervous motions.

Hank finally looked up, giving Connor a smile. "Second time I've done this," he turned the box once more and very carefully opened it. "Not with this ring!" he specified quickly. "This is ... This is just for you. If you want it." He turned the box so Connor could see it. It wasn't ostentatious, an old fashioned solitaire diamond on a thin gold band. Connor could see where it was thinner, grooves worn into the side where it rubbed against a wedding band. It had been worn and loved for many, many years.

Briefly, Connor could barely feel his body and he worried he was going into some kind of overload. Then it settled, his pump slowed a little as it really sank in what Hank was asking. Or rather, Connor realized, what he was very carefully tiptoeing  _ around  _ asking. "Say it," he whispered. "Ask, please?" He could reconstruct, preconstruct, imagine a thousand ways he could ask, use his voice, but he  _ needed  _ to hear Hank say it. 

Hank's lips moved a few times, breaths drawn in and caught and Connor smiled inwardly, a little glad that Hank seemed as nervous about this as he was. "Will you marry me, Connor?" He finally said, firm and clear, eyes meeting his.

"Absolutely," Connor said quickly, then realized it wasn't quite the right answer. "Yes," he said firmly. "Yes, I will." Connor cupped Hank's face and leaned in, kissing him sweetly. Then more deeply. 

Setting the ring aside, Hank wrapped both arms around Connor and groaned, holding him tight.

A few minutes later, they were still kissing when a soft woof got their attention. Connor drew back with a smile, stroking Hank's cheek. "Your turn," he said sweetly as he kissed Hanks lips lightly before moving back. 

"Mmm, you're lucky I love you," Hank grumbled, pulling Connor back against him for one more kiss, then another.

Finally they both got up, Connor going to take a shower, gleefully bitching about how  _ messy  _ Hank got him, and Hank pulled on his robe and went to feed Sumo and the puppies.

+++++

Three months passed by remarkably quickly to Connor's thinking. The pups had grown exponentially, the smallest now topping twenty five pounds, the largest closer to forty. The adoptions had been pushed back a month when deeper research into the matter indicated that twelve weeks, and not eight was a more common adoption point.

When they had finally contacted the sire's owner, after confirming that yes, it was their Billie, they'd been very glad to have him back. They'd moved, and he'd tried to find his way back to their old house, and had gotten side tracked and lost on the way. Thankfully, as rough a shape as he was in, he'd ultimately made a generally full recovery except for the bent tail, which didn't trouble him in the least, so they'd been told. Mac and Aimee had come to fetch him, and had met their grandpuppies, but admitted to no desire to have another dog.

Gavin had managed to behave himself admirably for three months and was going to be taking home the largest - it seemed to like him more than the other pups, and a brief overnight visit had proven the cats were tolerant enough. Connor knew Hank would never admit how poorly he'd slept that night. Dubbed Bucky by Gavin, he was on the more retriever end of the scale, with only some darker goldish brown patches and a black muzzle to mark his Saint Bernard heritage. He currently wore a black leather studded collar and was playfully harassing his smaller brethren.

The vet who had tended the birth, and then the puppies checkup and shots, had lead to another adoption. One of the techs had fallen in love with the then-runt of the litter, and admitted as much. After an slightly less than legal peek at her records, they'd agreed to offer to let her adopt the puppy when the time came. Like the other owners, she'd been over a number of times to visit her Petunia. She looked the most like a retriever, with barely any discoloration in her golden coat, and just an extra dark golden muzzle. Petunia wore a small pink collar with red hearts, and was currently chasing Sumo's flopping tail.

As Markus had anticipated, Alice had been in love with the idea of a puppy all her own. In the way of kids, she'd picked the one who'd licked her face the most enthusiastically, apparently not caring that she was plastic and not organic. Alice had been to visit almost once a week, sometimes with her parents, sometimes with Markus and Simon. Her puppy, Luka, had the markings of a Saint Bernard, but instead of dark brown, the patches were golden, and had a plain green collar. She admitted to Connor the name was for her parents, because she loved them so much.

One fateful visit, she'd been escorted by Jerry, from the abandoned pirate park. He had watched her play, and joined in. On their way home, he had contacted Connor, asking about the one left at that point with no collar. A brief consultation with Hank, and the final puppy was adopted. Jerry named her Captain, and her coat was a very pale golden, with darker patches like Sumo, but without the dark face.

Connor suspected Captain and Luka would be seeing a lot of each other, which suited because they seemed to get along very well. Even when they playfaught, they prefered to join forces. 

Of all the puppies, the one with the most choice about things, had been the one who had very decidedly chosen Simon. It had taken about two weeks for the couple to get away from Jericho to visit, and soon all three androids were on the floor with the litter. They were just barely starting to move around, comparatively huge heads wagging as they began to crawl. One of them, now called Galaxy, or Gal for short, had managed to made her way across the floor to flop against Simon's leg, and whined when they tried to nudge her back towards the others, so she stayed there. The only relocation she would allow without fussing was tucked up against Simon's chest. Markus had commented on her  _ excellent  _ taste. Hank pointed out that it was just blondes sticking together, because she had the palest overall coat by far, an almost white golden with only just noticeably darker patches. Befitting her name, Gal's collar was a colorful nebula design. She was in a pile with Captain and Luka, as if the three of them knew they'd be going to the same general place.

Judo, the most fully Saint Bernard looking of the puppies, and probably for that reason, Connor, Hank, and Sumo's favorite, had a dark blue collar with a circular pattern that looked uncannily similar to one of Hank's shirts. He was giving Bucky as good as he got, the two of them chasing each other around the kitchen.

They had planned a barbecue today, but the weather hadn't gotten the memo, and had sent a downpour. It only really inconvenienced two guests and a host, since everyone else didn't eat, so they'd opted to order pizza instead, once everyone arrived.

"The Jericho folks will be here in about ten minutes," Connor said, leaning back against Hank as he watched the puppies. He would no doubt see all of them again at some time or another, but in a few hours, they would no longer be the wiggly pile of puppies he'd found on their doorstep.

"Mmmm." Hank wrapped his arms around Connor, probably having similar thoughts about the pups. "Gonna miss them," he sighed, nuzzling Connor's hair.

"Me too. They're all going to good homes, though." The only person they hadn't known long was the tech, Lily, and she'd more than checked out. 

The Jericho crowd was the first to arrive, Alice bursting through the door and soon buried in puppies as she flopped on the kitchen floor, a position she maintained most of the afternoon.

Luther and Kara followed more sedately in spite of the pouring rain, with Markus, Simon, and Jerry just behind. Lily had arrived about ten minutes later, looking surprised when she realized the calibre of some of the other guests, but otherwise seemed at ease around so many androids. With a promise that she'd arrived in a cab, she joined Hank for a beer, and approved the idea of pizza.

When Nines and Gavin finally arrived, they were only minutes ahead of the pizza. Connor had contacted Nines for an ETA and timed the delivery accordingly.

Connor was chatting with Markus about things at Jericho, and he looked around the house, just taking everything in.

Hank, Kara and Luther were talking about parenthood, and Connor's chest ached to hear Hank talking openly about Cole, though he made a note to be extra sweet to Hank once everyone was gone.

Nines watched with subtle but open fondness as Gavin talked enthusiastically with Simon, of all people. Some show he'd watched as a boy that Simon was just now discovering. He still had his problems, but they were mostly confined to work these days. Nines explained once that Gavin seemed to feel he had to maintain a certain reputation on the job. Hank was more than happy to help keep his secret if it meant they still got to snipe at each other in the bullpen. Connor was just happy his brother had finally manned up. It had gone far better than Nines had predicted. The relationship hadn't really changed very much, as Connor understood it, but there was an extra layer to it, an openness where before they'd been hiding.

Lily was on the couch with Jerry, looking remarkably cozy for two people who'd only just met. Apparently, she'd visited the pirate theme park long before androids had come along, and they had started discussing old rides and shows. They were now on to some movie they had both enjoyed recently. Her hand kept finding its way to his shoulder and he didn't seem to mind a bit.

Catching Hank's gaze, Connor lifted a hand to his chest, feeling the diamond ring hanging there, under his shirt. Hank caught the gesture and smiled before turning back to answer Kara's question. Connor had asked, and Hank had been okay with not resizing it, and allowed Connor to keep it exactly as it had been, on a chain around his neck. He promised he'd wear the wedding band, though, even before it was legal because in his mind, it had been a done deal long before Hank even asked.

"Penny for them?" Markus asked with a chuckle, drawing Connor out of his thoughts.

"Mm. Family, I suppose. What makes one. How nice it is to have one." He was still absently fingering the ring.

For all that she was made of plastic and thirium, Alice was still a child, and children grew tired. When she did, the party slowly broke itself up. Simon, Markus, Kara, Luther, Alice, and their puppies all took a cab back to Jericho. Jerry and Lily and their respective puppies also took a cab, presumably to her place. 

Finally it was just Hank, Connor, Nines, and Gavin. Since Nines was his brother, and they'd sat on the news long enough, they had decided to finally tell him about the engagement, and that meant telling Gavin also. Congratulations had been given, with Gavin making a crack about not knowing who to feel the most sorry for. He'd said it with soft eyes, though, and it had a feeling of a jab for old times sake rather than anything vicious. The fact that it earned him a sharp smack on his ass probably had something to do with it as well.

They were on their way a few minutes later, with Nines driving since Gavin had joined the other two humans for a beer or three.

Now that it was just them, Connor fished the ring out and let it lay over his shirt, enjoying the way it sparkled. Then Hank let out a groan and sprawled on the couch. Picking up Judo, Connor went to join him, feeling ridiculously happy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Specifically, the picture of Hank and Connor on the phone is from [Beepboopsingay](https://beepboopsingay.tumblr.com/) (who is also on [twitter!)](https://twitter.com/beepboopsingay).
> 
> Hank's welcome home, and Connor with Judo were done by [hide-your-rabbits](http://hideyourrabbits.tumblr.com)
> 
> \--
> 
> Because I can't figure out how to make links to the originals in the fic itself, here are links - go check them out, they're gorgeous!!
> 
>   
>  [Hank and Connor on the phone](https://i.imgur.com/lk3xFnz.png)
> 
>  
> 
> [Hank and Connor at the airport](https://i.imgur.com/MuO4kgI.jpg)
> 
>  
> 
> [Connor with Judo](https://i.imgur.com/an8vWm2.jpg)  
> 


End file.
